Morning Glories


I never asked for this life-less ordinary breakfast. Time

passes like a fly in and out of my open mouth. Clean your teeth! I scream

from another room in my closeted mind, hide out on a lid-down loo

(give me strength) breathe in, let it all out, shout – Get dressed!

rinse/repeat till I’m blue-bottle faced with back-n-forth buzzing

hairshoeslunchboxbag race outta the house.

I never agreed to this wife-less Holiday-Inn continental breakfast bar

Tender came last night’s memory; open-mouthed, tongue tip crushed-lip moans

from another upgraded room. Life-to-mouth resuscitation

strengthened tissues, wipe-clean mess, breathless re-dressing

belt-buckled race to follow suit, eliminate all trace feeling, brush off

awkward beige-carpet conversation; slip out before Housekeeping.

I never expected such sexless friendship, love fasting

for all, bar the one I chose to spend life parallelled with, till death

do us part or our teeth fall out, body-parts flaking into dusty ice-cream sundaes

listless gazing through broadsheets stuffed with fake news addressing

issues a galaxy light-year from our everyday existence, this drab rush

towards grave old age, fracking comfort holes within our forever home.

Till the day you leave: breakfast slams against the wall, I curse fast

behind gritted teeth and return to solitary ablutions, dress

my smarting wounds, brush up raw fragments to house these memories.

Katrina Moinet